A Momentous Occasion
by PhoenixRising143
Summary: Beginning on the train ride to Charlottetown in season 3, episode 2. This AU explores what might've happened if Gilbert accompanied Anne on her journey of self-discovery.
1. Chapter 1

Goes without saying, I do not own Anne of Green Gables or Anne with an E

"It's fine!" Gilbert had said, his tone of finality brooking no argument. But it WASN'T fine, was it? After all, it wasn't Gilbert that Anne was frustrated with, it was Marilla. Well, really it was both of them. But it wasn't fair of her to take her frustration out on Gilbert simply for being present, when it was his very presence that was allowing her to make this most important and personal of journeys.

At this point, it had been about 10 minutes since they'd last spoken, and Anne didn't like it one bit. She knew it'd be easier this way. If Gilbert wasn't talking to her, than maybe he'd talk to Ruby more and they'd fall in love and Anne would stop feeling... Well, she wasn't sure what she was feeling. She wasn't sure about a lot of things these days.

But the sour feeling lingering in the pit of her stomach made her certain about one thing, she simply HAD to make things right with Gilbert. Before they made it to Charlottetown. But how? He had his nose buried deeply in his book. Anne imagined it to be a medical journal of some sort, full of interesting facts and useful information, but resolved to inquire about the subject later. She didn't want to be distracted. She also had a sneaking suspicion, given the lack of pages turning, that Gilbert was only using the book to avoid looking at her. The sour feeling intensified.

"Gilbert, I-"

"I SAID IT'S FINE, ANNE!"

"NO, IT'S NOT!"

An the ringing silence left behind by her outburst, Anne realized that once again they were arguing. This was not an auspicious beginning. Her eyes were focused on her lap where her hands were resting, because she couldn't bear the thought of making eye contact with the other passengers who were, no doubt, staring at the belligerent teens. She could feel the heat of those stares, so she watched her fingers tangle together where she held them. Gilbert still hadn't responded. She took a fortifying breath and met his eyes with her own.

His hazel eyes wide, but calm, Gilbert stared at her in that way of his that made her so nervous. Like he was looking inside her skin somehow, searching for her soul. How was he capable of such intensity, without even speaking?

"P-please," Her voice broke on the word and she felt her face go red with mortification. Fantastic. She couldn't stop now, though. Clearing her throat, she tried again. "Please let me apologize, Gilbert. It's not fair that I lost my temper. And it's especially unfair of me to take my frustration out on you when you haven't done anything wrong. I was nervous about today and then embarrassed by what Marilla said on the platform, especially when she knows better than anyone that I am capable of making this journey on my own! I don't need an escort!"

"Anne, don't you know that we want to protect you?"

"I can protect myself-"

"-You shouldn't have to!" Gilbert cut in. "That's what people do when they care about you. They look out for you. They carry your burdens like they were their own. Just because you're capable of doing everything on your own, doesn't mean you should be forced to. Especially not when your friends are asking you to share the load."

Anne was quiet at this. Gilbert could tell by the tension in her brow that she was considering his words deeply and he wanted to give her time to ponder, but something she had said stuck out to him.

"Anne..." He lost his nerve.

"Yes, Gilbert?" She looked at him, her blue eyes bright and focused on him with an unfamiliar intensity. She almost never looked at him like this. Brief glimpses, the occasional lingering glance when he was looking elsewhere and couldn't see but that FELT like Anne. But never this direct. He let her gaze wash over him like cool water and spoke what was on his heart.

"When you said that Marilla knew better than anyone that you were capable, what did you mean?"

"I, I don't know what I meant. I must've been rambling. You know me, I get an idea in my head and I just run with it. Sometimes I don't even know where a thought will take me. It's like it's own adventure, really..." She slowly trailed of into silence. He didn't appear convinced. She briefly considered running away, but she wouldn't get far on the train. Jumping off wasn't an option. The train was going too fast, and besides she couldn't risk her personal journey.

"They sent me back. Once, before you came back. It was a mistake and Matthew came to get me, but I made the journey back to the orphanage on my own. Marilla knows I can do it because she... " She couldn't continue. The pain of the memories so intense, they choked her.

"She made you go." Gilbert was quiet, eyes narrowed in thought. He wanted to know more about what'd happened between Anne and Marilla, but determined that now was not the time. He continued, "So, the orphanage. That's where you're going today?"

"Yes!" This was a much easier topic, and Anne warmed to it quickly. "It started with the project in class. Not being able to share where I came from, it woke something in me. My parents, my family. There is no one in the world like me. And I didn't realize until I'd really thought about it, how lonely I've been because of it. Not knowing where I come from. It's like there's this hole there. Even if it's bad, even if everyone is dead and I'm the only one left, I have to know! I have to know if I had a family. I have to know if I was loved. You probably think it's silly…"

"No, I don't, Anne. I don't think it's silly at all. I think you're very brave. I forget sometimes just how different your life must've been before you came to Avonlea. I'm sorry."

"Why are you apologizing?"

"Because, I shouldn't have taken it personally. Earlier on the train, I was... Upset. That wasn't fair to you. You're my friend, I should've been able to see that something was bothering you."

She was caught by his gaze. Reeled in like a fish on a hook. She so desperately wanted to look away and yet. And yet. What could he mean by looking at her with such striking emotion? Why was she still looking back?

"Anne, I want to go with you."

"Wh-what? With me? Go with me where?"

"To the orphanage." Gilbert clarified, "I want to help you find out about your family, if you'll have me."

"Oh, that's not necessary. Cole is escorting me, so you needn't feel obligated. Besides, you have your apprenticeship-"

"I think Dr. Ward will understand. This feels...not important. No, I need an Anne word. Momentous. This is a momentous occasion."

"But-"

"But what, Anne? Do you... Do you not want me to go?" He would never admit how difficult it was for him to ask that question. How could he bear her answer?

"…Ruby, " Anne spoke her friend's name so softly it was a mumble. Gilbert hadn't heard.

"What?" He said.

"Ruby wouldn't like it." Again, Anne spoke into her lap, but Gilbert heard her this time.

"What does Ruby have to do with it? Anne, if you don't want me to accompany you, you can just tell me. You don't have to make an excuse to spare my feelings. "

Was he serious? Anne wanted to know. She knew boys were usually oblivious, but she'd thought better of Gilbert than this. Did she really have to spell it out for him? She knew it'd be easier just to say that she didn't want him there, but that...would be a lie. No, she would have to tell the truth. He would probably understand. Surely the boys had their own version of 'dibs', right?

"Ruby-" No, she couldn't say it that way. She couldn't tell Gilbert that Ruby liked him, that'd betray her friend's trust. Better to speak in general terms. But where to begin?

"Gilbert, what do boys do when they like a girl? I mean, how do they make it known that the girl is….off limits?"

"What do you mean off limits?"

"Well, how do you let the other boys know not to talk to a girl that another boy likes?"

"Well, really it depends on the girl and how she feels, don't you think? Besides, people shouldn't be allowed to control other people. You either like someone and they like you, or you don't, or they don't. Controlling whether or not someone is allowed to-wait. When we first met, you said you weren't allowed to talk to me! Is this why? What'd the girls tell you?! "

Oh, dear. This wasn't going at all how Anne wanted. She didn't want Gilbert to be angry with the other girls, she just wanted him to understand.

"Gilbert, you have to understand. I didn't have an easy time making friends in Avonlea when I first came. Everything was different from how I expected it to be, and being an orphan made ME different from what everyone else wanted. I just wanted to fit in and you... After you pulled my hair, it was just easier to give in. The girls thought I didn't like you, so they left me alone about it. And I wanted so very badly to have friends."

"I only pulled your hair because you wouldn't talk to me. With my dad at home d-dying," Gilbert's voice broke with grief and he stopped, trying to keep from crying.

Overwhelmed by the compassion she felt for the boy sitting across from her, Anne reached out to clasp his hands in her own. He allowed it, watching in silence, until he felt he could go on. "School just didn't seem important. Nothing seemed important, really. Everything paled in comparison. Except you. Oh, Anne. Don't you know that when you came into my life, it was like a flash fire? You light the whole world with your warmth and your kindness. And I wanted so much just to be around you. To be your friend, except... "

"I pushed you away. Oh, Gilbert. I'm sorry. I wanted to be your friend too, but... "

"It's okay, Anne. We're friends now, right?"

"I want to be, it's just... "

Gilbert squeezed her hands with sudden emphasis and she startled. She'd forgotten they were still holding hands. For a moment, she felt she should pull away, but then he slid his thumb across the line of her knuckles and she lost her nerve.

"Anne, you have to let ME decide who I want my friends to be. It doesn't matter what anyone else says. And as far as any girls go... If I have feelings for a girl, being friends with someone else isn't going to lessen those feelings. But in Ruby's case...I don't see her that way. She's a nice girl, but too...docile."

"Docile?"

"It means submissive."

"I KNOW what it means, Gilbert. I meant, well, I guess I meant why is docile a...criticism? Don't men want docile wives?"

"I suppose some men do, but not me. My dad told me once that my mom was a passionate woman. That she wasn't afraid to tell him when he was wrong, and help him make it right. He said that she was just as quick to right her own wrongs. He told me that she was his equal. She supported him and he, her. I don't know what their love looked like, I only know his stories. But I don't think I could court a girl unless I really felt like she was MY equal."

He was looking at her again. Hazel eyes bright and shining with some emotion she couldn't name, but that made her feel very warm.

They were distracted by the sudden squeal and clatter of the train slowing down. The journey was over. They'd made it to Charlottetown.

"You can come with me, " Anne forced the words out on a gasp. She spoke so quietly she wasn't sure he'd heard her, but then he smiled at her with such joy that she was mesmerized. What in the world was she going to do about Gilbert Blythe?


	2. Chapter 2

Goes without saying, I don't own Anne of Green Gables or Anne with an E

Due to the mass exodus of passengers, it was a little while before they were on their way to Dr. Ward's office. It was near enough to the train station that they could walk, but Gilbert felt guilty for pulling time away from Anne. He hadn't thought about this part, when he made his offer. What if this took too long and she missed the ferry? Selfish, his thoughts invaded like a whip lash. Self-recrimination cut with a serrated edge. He'd just wanted to be close to her. The thought of learning more about her was something he couldn't resist and didn't want to. She didn't know how right she was, calling herself an enigma. She baffled him in the most marvelous ways. Surrounded by shadows, she shined like the sun. Her red hair and freckles, oh, if only she could hear what he thought of in those brief moments he allowed himself to trace her features with his eyes. He mapped constellations on her cheeks. And her hair, it wasn't just red. It was gold and copper. It cascaded over her shoulders like molten metal. Or it would, if she would let him take out her braids and run his fingers through-

Gilbert cleared his throat deliberately, shifting his thoughts AWAY at the reality of how inappropriate they had become. He didn't feel as though his thoughts were lascivious, necessarily. But he knew that they were inappropriate to be having about a friend. Until he knew how Anne felt directly, without the influence of the mandate of the other girls, she was his friend alone. She had agreed to be his friend and that was more than enough. He wouldn't indulge his hopes, but God he hoped.

He looked around at the passing scenery and realized they'd been walking in silence for almost half the journey. Hopefully he hadn't been staring. Well, at least he hadn't tripped over anything. Gilbert wondered what Anne was thinking. He glanced over to find her walking with her gaze lowered, biting her lip, deep in thought. He faltered, paused.

She stopped too. She looked so sad. Her eyes were dry, but she carried such a weight on her shoulders.

"Gilbert?"

"What are you thinking? Right this moment. Will you tell me?"

Anne didn't know what she was thinking, not precisely. Her memories of her life before Avonlea were...foggy. Not gone, not forgotten, but...dormant. Her ghosts remained well…ghosts. But she knew that going to the orphanage would stir everything up again. And having Gilbert there, too. She didn't want him to see where she'd come from. But he had told her she was brave! And oh, how she wanted to be. She knew pushing him away now would be cowardly, but she wanted to do that too. Would he think differently of her? Would he see the "dirty orphan" that everyone else did? She asked herself why what he thought always mattered, but didn't have an answer. She just knew that it did.

He'd asked her a question, right? It was...

"I don't know what I'm thinking. I suppose I'm afraid of what I might learn. Of how it'll change things. If I want to learn the truth, I have to risk learning that the truth is something bad. But what if it is something bad? What if people think differently of me? I can imagine so many possibilities."

"Anne, it wouldn't change anything."

"What do you mean? It changes everything! Who I am-"

"Who you are isn't determined by who your family was. But that's besides the point. I wasn't trying to argue. What I meant was it doesn't change how much you're loved. It can add, sure, and I'll be glad if it does. But if it doesn't, it doesn't mean you lose. Everyone who loves you now will continue to do so, and that number is greater than you might suspect. "

He was looking at her again. Why did he have to be so handsome?

Anne, abashed at her own foolish whimsy (a rare occurrence), began walking once more along the road.

Gilbert, embarrassed by his own emotion, made the rest of the way to Dr. Ward's office in silence. Gilbert knew he was technically late, and felt guiltier still at his impulse, since he would be cancelling the session, but he knew accompanying Anne on her journey was the right call. Especially now, that he understood what was truly tied up in the quest. Gilbert could only imagine how much Anne was holding back. Her continued silence was unnerving, but Gilbert did not want to force her confidence a second time. He hoped she would share her thoughts with him eventually, but trusted her to find her own timing. He hoped that she believed him, that she knew that she was still very much loved by everyone back home. And, by him. He could admit it now. Hearing her heartrending plea on the train to know if she was loved, spoke to him in a way that he hadn't understood could be possible. It was as if the words echoed down to his very core and he wanted only to refute her and say that she was loved, by him. By Gilbert Blythe. He'd do all he could to help her find out about her history. Even if her family were all long gone, just to know their names. He understood the need. He couldn't imagine not knowing his family, even though they were gone, too.

Gilbert understood why she wanted to make this journey, he just didn't understand why she felt like so much was tied up in with it. He wasn't stupid, he knew that a lot of orphans didn't get that way because their parents died. He knew what Anne was afraid to learn. Or he suspected, anyway. Since she hadn't actually told him. But even if that was the truth. If Anne's parents had chosen to give her away, then it was their loss. It didn't make her worth any less. She was priceless to him.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Blythe. You're late!" They were greeted by a soft feminine voice as Gilbert held open the door for Anne to enter before following her into the office.

"Oh, hello." Anne matched the melodious voice to the young blonde woman, beautiful as an angel, standing in a nearby doorway. Anne battled with a sudden influx of insecurity, this was the kind of woman she felt Gilbert should marry. They might even be the same age.

"Hello, Miss Rose. This is my friend Anne. I'm afraid I'm going to have to miss my session today. I need to let the Doctor know. Is he in his office?"

"Nice to meet you, Anne. And no, unfortunately. He's with a patient at present. If you'd like to leave a note, I'll be sure he gets it!"

She seemed kind, Anne thought. And did she work in the office? Anne wondered if Miss Rose wanted to be a doctor like Gilbert. That'd be wonderful, she thought, and resolved to get to know the girl better while Gilbert wrote his note for the doctor.

"Do you enjoy your work for Dr. Ward, Miss Rose?" That seemed like a safe topic. Miss Rose seemed so sophisticated to Anne, it made her nervous.

The woman smiled softly and and answered, "I do enjoy it a great deal. And please call me Winifred, Miss Anne...?"

"Oh! Anne Shirley-Cuthbert, of Green Gables. But Anne is fine... Winifred."

Winifred seemed hesitant to continue, so Anne let the conversation drop. She felt...oddly dissatisfied by this encounter, as though it had ended prematurely. She got the sense that Winifred had a great deal to say, and so she was flummoxed by the young woman's reluctance to speak. But before she could think on it further, Gilbert rejoined them and he and Anne were quickly on their way to Miss Josephine Barry's.

"What did you tell the doctor? " Anne asked him while they walked.

"I told him that something personal had come up and that I'd discuss it further with him next week. I wasn't sure how much you would want me to reveal, so I kept the note pretty vague. "

"Oh. You can tell him the truth, I don't mind. It's not a secret, after all"

"Thank you, Anne"

She smiled softly at him and they made their way up the gravel drive. As the house came into view she noticed the sun light shining against a head of blonde hair. Someone stood by the door. It was Cole! Forgetting for a moment about Gilbert, Anne broke into a run, anxious to greet her dear friend.

Gilbert, meanwhile, continued up the drive at his current pace, amused and charmed by Anne's exuberance. A small part of him wanted to feel jealous at the obvious affection she felt for the other boy, but Gilbert knew that that would be entirely unfair of him to feel that way. He didn't own Anne, wouldn't try to control her. He only wished for her happiness, and it was clear that the other boy's friendship made her very happy. They were still hugging when he made it to where they were standing, so Gilbert resolved to wait until they were finished. It didn't take long.

"Oh!" Anne gasped, and pulled away from Cole. "Gilbert, you remember Cole from school, right? Gilbert will be accompanying us as well, Cole, if that's all right."

"Of course, Anne, Gilbert. The more the merrier. Please come in. Anne, Aunt Jo is upstairs. We have an idea to run by you, before we go. Gilbert, I can show you into the library if you'd like. We won't be long."

Gilbert acquiesced, and so the trio climbed the staircase. Cole left Gilbert to the books, and then led Anne to Josephine's bedroom. He knocked softly, and the door was opened by the woman herself.

"Hello, dear Anne! Lovely to see you. Off on another adventure, Cole tells me. Well, I'd like to offer a small suggestion, if you'd be amenable."

"Of course, I would be amenable, Aunt Jo. Your advice means a great deal to me."

"Well, Cole and I were discussing and... I fear that you may be disappointed on this journey."

"Oh, dearest Aunt Josephine. I treasure your concern. Truly, I do. I know that, I may end up learning something I didn't want to. I have to know the truth, though."

"We understand the need that drives you, Anne, " Cole rebutted. "Aunt Jo meant that you may be disappointed in a different way. I'm old enough to escort you, but we're the same age. I have just as much of a chance of being dismissed as a kid as you do. Although, it might be different now that Gilbert is with us, since he's older. Anyway, Aunt Josephine thought that if you and I looked a bit older, we may have an easier time getting the information you need."

"Oh, that IS a good idea. Although, I don't have anything that would-"

"Never fear, dear." The older woman interrupted. "I have more than enough to spare."

Aunt Jo led her behind an ornate dressing screen in her bedroom and helped Anne to change into what she'd provided. Leaving the accoutrements of girlhood behind her, Anne dressed quickly in the undergarments, light green skirt, lace blouse, and jacket. The corset wrapped around her waist felt alien, but she loved how mature it made her feel. Aunt Jo was right. Adults were taken more seriously than children.

"Perfect!" Cole cried upon seeing her ensemble. "Except the braids. Aunt Jo, I think we'll need you to work your magic!"

Soon Anne was polished and coiffed, a small green ladies' hat pinned to her curls completing her look. She felt womanly, but she also felt like a girl playing at being a woman. She wondered what Gilbert would think, but then quickly pushed the thoughts away. This wasn't about Gilbert, it was about her. Her mission of self discovery. Resolute, Anne thanked her friends for their kindness and the party left to meet Gilbert in the library. They would need to leave soon in order to make the ferry, so Rollings was sent to ensure that the carriage was ready.

Gilbert was fascinated by the library. A large, wood-panelled room with soft leather chairs, a fireplace, and more books than he'd seen together at one time in his whole life. It was an intellectual haven. He could spend weeks in this room and never get bored. Briefly, he wondered about Anne, why Cole had pulled her away, but he figured he'd find out soon enough. They would be leaving in a little while to meet the ferry. Gilbert found himself in the philosophy section and decided to browse. Time passed quickly, and he was startled by the door opening.

"Lovely to see you again, young Mr. Blythe, " Miss Josephine Barry addressed him as she entered. Presumably Cole entered with her, but Gilbert was no longer aware. The entirety of his focus was on the siren who came in last. He was stunned. Speechless. He'd always thought Anne was beautiful, even if he didn't consciously admit it. But seeing her now was something new. The lace of her blouse emphasized the pale, cinnamon-speckled cream of her skin. And the green of the skirt and jacket contrasted vividly with her Titian hair and sapphire eyes, making both appear brighter, and more lovely in his gaze. Once again he found himself mesmerized by this girl-no, woman.

"What do you think, Gilbert? Do I look the part? Aunt Jo thought we'd have an easier time if we looked older. Well, if Cole and I looked older, that is. So, he's wearing a new suit and Aunt Jo let me borrow... "

Anne trailed of once she became aware of Gilbert staring. It unnerved her. Was he even blinking?

"You look beautiful, Anne" He said, softly. He seemed unaware that he'd spoken aloud.

She'd heard him, though. Anne didn't have too much time to think about what he'd said, though, because Rollings came then to announce that the carriage was ready. The trio quickly said their goodbyes and departed.

Soon Anne was on her way to meet her destiny.


	3. Chapter 3

I don't own Anne of Green Gables or Anne with an E

[Author's Note: I am so happy with the response I've had on this story so far. I'm gonna try and update regularly, but I work full time, so I won't be able to commit to a strict schedule.. This is pretty much my AU of season 3, so I think this story with go through all the events of the show, but with a lot more Gilbert/Anne because I am a hopeless romantic and I live me some Shirbert. :) ]

Beautiful. Beautiful. Gilbert Blythe had told her she was beautiful. Anne wanted to dismiss the thought. Part of her scoffed at the very notion. Anne? Beautiful? No, she knew better.

But she also knew Gilbert. At least, she felt she knew him well enough to know that he wouldn't be intentionally dishonest, or needlessly cruel. Why, oh why did boys have to be so confusing? No. She couldn't think on this now.

The carriage ride to the water had been unnaturally short. Anne feared for the poor horses. Surely they must've been mistreated in order to make the journey so quickly. She had a thought to give the driver a piece of her mind, but realized when they left the carriage that the horses were fine. She guessed it was just nerves.

Anne walked meekly behind her two friends as she pondered this, following them onto the ferry before sitting on a nearby bench. Was she really so nervous about returning to St. Alban's Orphanage? But this was different now. It wasn't fear and disgrace that led her, but courage and self-discovery. The icy fingers of apprehension she felt tickling along her spine belied her attempt to convince herself otherwise. She was glad now more than ever that she would have her friends with her. Cole and...and Gilbert. Surely, they were friends now? She felt bad for inadvertently betraying the edict of the other girls, but agreed with Gilbert. The whole concept of 'dibs' had baffled her even back then, but she'd felt it necessary to go along with it. He was right though, that he had the right to choose his own friends. If he wanted to be her friend...OR MORE. (Her traitorous thoughts would not be silenced.) After all, he'd been looking at her an awful lot lately. He'd called her beautiful. And when he talked about COURTING, earlier. She tried to smother the hope that had taken root in her heart. Of course he was only speaking hypothetically. He was a kind-hearted boy. They were friends and nothing more. All this ruminating was not distracting her from the heavy weight of dread low in her belly. She'd always hoped that she'd left the orphanage behind for good. That she'd left all her past behind for good. She had a home now, she was wanted. Loved, even.

Anne was surprised by the certainty she felt in that statement. But she was! Anne Shirley-Cuthbert was loved. She wouldn't call Gilbert a liar, so it must be true.

The fear she was battling, lessened somewhat at this realization. It must've called for retreat, she surmised.

As her thoughts quieted, Anne realized that someone was speaking her name aloud and had been for some time. The voice was quiet, but she could hear the underlying tone of worry.

"Anne. Anne. Please say something, Anne. Tell me what you're thinking. Anne!"

It was Gilbert. He was sitting on the bench beside her. She lifted her head to make eye contact with him. Immediately, she felt wrapped in his concern as though it were a warm embrace.

"I'm alright, Gilbert" She answered him. Realizing as she spoke that it was the truth. "I'm apprehensive about going back. I don't have happy memories of my time there, but I think I'm okay. I'm glad you're with me. And Cole. I mean, I'm glad you're both here." She blushed at her imagined neglect of her kindred friend, but realized upon observation that he wasn't heeding the conversation. Cole was standing further away, looking out over the railing at the water.

She was effectively alone with Gilbert. The thought made her suddenly very nervous, and she would've stood up and joined Cole by the railing, but Gilbert spoke.

"Anne, do you think someday you might tell me about your life before Avonlea? About growing up in the orphanage, the homes you had before Green Gables? I would love to know more about you. On-only if you want to tell me, though. I don't want you to feel like you have to tell me."

"There's not much to tell, Gilbert. The orphanage was better than others, but worse than some, I imagine. It was...bleak. Colorless. Logically, I know there must have been some color, but I can't remember any. It's just...loneliness and cruelty. I didn't have any friends or...well, anyone really. I was too...different. I'm sorry, this probably isn't the description you imagined, but everything was the same you see. Day after day. It was monotonous seeing the same faces, the same walls. We weren't often allowed outside, so there wasn't much scope for the imagination."

"Was it better in the other homes?"

"No, it was much worse. They weren't homes, Gilbert. They were just places. At the orphanage, I got to go to school. I slept in a real bed. And the chores were mostly evenly distributed. Being in service when you're an orphan, well. It's like being less than human. All my life I've been told that I had to earn my keep, that I was a nothing but a worthless burden. The people I was sent to, they didn't want a daughter. They wanted a slave."

Gilbert was horrified by what he was hearing. He'd suspected she'd been mistreated, especially after seeing the kinship between the girl beside him and Bash, his brother in all but blood. They understood each other on a level he never would, and Gilbert wondered if this was part of it. He always hoped that the rumors were exaggerated, but now? Gilbert couldn't imagine enduring the kind of treatment he suspected Bash and now Anne had endured. He was overcome by empathy for her. She was so brave. So very, very brave. If he hadn't already known he loved her, he would've realized it in this moment.

"Anne." Speaking her name aloud, Gilbert realized he'd been silent for too long. But what to say? He knew what he wanted to say, but he also knew that that language was inappropriate for a friend. He knew that there would be time to explore that possibility, but not today. Today Anne needed Gilbert, her friend, and he would not be selfish. No matter how much he might wish to declare himself.

"Anne, you inspire me." That hadn't been what he wanted to say. Well, truthfully he hadn't yet figured out what he WANTED to say. He'd been thinking that and it just slipped out.

"What?" She whispered, the word escaping on a sigh.

"You inspire me. To be a better man, I mean. All the unkindness you've experienced, and yet I can't imagine someone with a kinder heart than you. You are so brave."

Anne was silent for a, moment, and then, "Melkita'ulamun."

"What?"

"Oh. It's a name. Well, my name I guess. My friend Ka'kwet gave it to me. She's from the Mi'kmaq village near our 've met her; you ordered a hockey stick from her father." At Gilbert's nod of acknowledgement, Anne continued. "It means 'a strong and brave heart.' Ka'kwet told me 'when your eyes seek and your heart is open, that is true brave. '"

"Your friend is very wise, Anne. Would you teach me how to say your Mi'kmaq name? I'd love to learn."

Excited by the prospect, Anne quickly set to her task. She spent the rest of the ferry ride teaching Gilbert everything she had learnt so far from her new friend.

When they disembarked from the ferry, Anne felt the dread that had so recently lifted, settle low in her belly once more. Be brave, she told herself. You are not alone this time.

She was startled by a sudden warmth enveloping her right hand. Gilbert. She squeezed the hand now holding hers and he squeezed back. Neither looked at the other, but she could feel him adjusting his hold until their fingers were entwined. Perhaps it was inappropriate, but Anne grasped the lifeline for what it was.

It would be a short walk to the orphanage. Anne knew the way. Using her free hand to brush some imagined dust from her skirt, she stepped forward. Her two companions following alongside. She felt secure with them beside her. Guarded. She was reminded of Jane Eyre, summoned back to the deathbed of Mrs. Reed. Anne resolved that she, too, would meet animosity with grace. But she would not return to the orphanage as the terrified child who had left. She was an adult now. A woman. Maybe not quite in age, but she looked the part and would act it. She would get answers. She would.

Anne soon recognized the familiarity of the passing scenery. They were close. With another few dozen paces, the gates were upon her.

"This is where you came from, Anne?" That was Cole. "It looks haunted."

"I suppose it is, in a way. Filled with the ghosts of childhood dreams. 'It was a perfect graveyard of buried hopes.' Hm...I said that phrase to Marilla once. I didn't quite understand what it meant until now."

She met Gilbert's solemn gaze with her own. She felt like he was asking her a question, though he remained silent. The hand holding hers squeezed lightly.

"I'm still okay, " She said. "Shall we go?"

In answer, Cole stepped forward and opened the gate to allow them to pass. Then it was a short walk to the door. Anne reached for the knob, but Cole got there first. He turned it and pushed the door open. The other two entering behind him.

Gilbert was struck by the truth in Anne's description from before: this place was truly colorless. His heart grieved for the young woman beside him. Glancing at her out of the corner of his eye, he saw her face firm in her determination. The hand holding his was steady.

Together they made their way further into the house.


	4. Chapter 4

As always, I don't own Anne with an E

[Author's Note: thank you so much for the positive feedback in the reviews. Knowing that people enjoy what I write makes this whole experience that much more enjoyable. ]

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Anne wasn't really sure what she'd expected coming back here again. Somehow the place seemed smaller. Maybe because of how much she'd grown. As they crossed the entryway and made their way to main stairwell, Anne determined that she would not let this place frighten her anymore. She still bore the scars of her time here, both physical and emotional. But she knew in this moment, with Cole and Gilbert beside her, she COULD be brave.

"Matron's office is upstairs. Come along this way."

Following along the distantly familiar hallway, Anne thought about the past. Her emotions were in turmoil. Her senses triggered a multitude of bad memories: the smells, the sounds. Even the sight of the dingy not-quite-white paint on the walls summoned ghosts she'd thought long forgotten.

There she was, hiding at the bottom of the stairs, trying to stay out of sight of the other orphans.

There she was again, darting through a doorway, weeping desperately at the injustice of it all.

After reluctantly releasing Gilbert's hand to better navigate the stairs, Anne was reminded of the many times she'd been forced up this very staircase to answer to Matron. She swallowed down the lump that had worked it's way into her throat and reminded herself to be brave.

"Anne," Gilbert called out as they reached the top. She wanted to answer him, she really did, but she was distracted by a familiar open doorway near the stairs. She peeked in and saw the groups of beds, lumpy and uncomfortable looking, that were placed haphazardly throughout the chamber.

"This was my room," she spoke softly, sensing him beside her. "Well, it was the room I slept in, anyway."

Gilbert didn't trust himself to speak any more just yet. Righteous fury bubbled in his gut like molten lava, threatening to erupt with volcanic ferocity. It took all his effort to hold it in, but he did, knowing that for all he felt, he could not change one second of what she had endured.

She called this a room. Objectively, Gilbert supposed it would be an adequate bedroom for one person, if a little cramped. But there had to be at least twelve beds juxtaposed across the floor, with barely enough space to walk between them. The one window on the far wall was so small and dirty as to let in almost no light at all. Hopelessness clung to every surface, despair bled from the walls. Gilbert would rather be back in his cramped hammock in the bowels of the steamer then ever sleep in this place.

Gilbert lost his tenuous hold on his emotions, except it wasn't anger that escaped, it was love.

"Oh, Anne," He reached for the young woman in the doorway beside him and pulled her into his embrace.

He couldn't change a damn thing that had happened to her, could only guess at the true extent of the agonies she'd endured. He knew he'd never get the full truth from her, sensing that she would hold back to spare his own feelings. But he could give her this. He could give her himself. And though he knew he couldn't erase the past, he fervently prayed that he could help lessen the sting of it.

XXXXXXXXX

Standing in the doorway of her old room, Anne felt the cold of the orphanage seep into her skin. It was a familiar feeling, one she'd grown used to being in this place. Harsh winters, thin walls, and threadbare clothes weren't exactly known for keeping one warm. Anne felt the chill filtering through her many layers of finery as she stood frozen, locked in the grip of memory. She felt like she'd never be warm again.

And then she was engulfed in flame. Too stunned at first to recognize what had happened, Anne felt that she was burning. The sudden change in temperature threw her off balance and she would've pulled away, but then Gilbert spoke again.

"Anne, I am so, so sorry for everything you went through here. When you're ready, let's go to that office so we can get the information you need. And then I promise, you never, ever have to come back!"

She realized that he was embracing her when she felt the vibration of his voice against her cheek. The muscles of his chest were broad and firm, and he held her so that his hand cupped the back of her head, keeping her close to him. She suspected that he must be uncomfortable, her hat must be poking at his face, but he held her tight.

Anne melted into Gilbert's embrace as warmth trickled back into her limbs. She wasn't sure how long they stood like that. It felt like hours, but must've only been a few minutes before she heard Cole clear his throat, and they broke apart.

"It's this way," She murmured, her voice raspy. No sooner had the thought of how nice it would be if Gilbert reached for hand again entered her mind, then he was there, fingers entwined with hers once more. It grounded her.

On impulse, Gilbert pulled Anne's hand to his lips, placing a quick kiss on her knuckles.

The gesture melted Anne's heart and in that moment, she felt like she could face anything the Matron had to say.

XXXXXXXXXX

The door to the office was open, but Anne could hear voices echoing from within. They would have to wait until the matron's current audience was finished.

A soft sniffling sound drew Anne's attention to a young boy and girl, clinging to each other and weeping quietly on the far side of the room. They couldn't have been older than five or six years old. A sense of foreboding settled in Anne's stomach and she tuned into the conversation going on in the office.

"-they get older, what do you want us to tell them?" That was the matron.

"Tell them I'm dead," A masculine voice answered.

"Anne?" That was Gilbert. Anne realized that she'd been squeezing his hand rather tightly and loosened her grip. She turned to answer him, but couldn't find the words to describe her fears.

Gilbert, growing more and more alarmed at Anne's wide eyes and ashy countenance, was distracted by the clatter of a man leaving the office in some haste.

"Papa! Papa!" The young boy cried, leaping up to run after his father.

Tears in his voice, the man pushed the child away, saying "I can't keep you, son. Damn it, I can't keep you!"

Of course, Gilbert thought. She's probably wondering if she was left the same way all those years ago. Those poor children, to be so young and so very alone in the world.

He leaned over close to her to whisper, "Anne, remember it doesn't change anything. Remember who loves you back home."

Anne heard him, but wasn't quite able to bring herself to respond. Not yet. She was stunned by the violence of her own emotions. Every part of her being wanted to turn tail and run. Just run far away and never look back.

Her very worst memories of the orphanage were suddenly, vividly before her eyes. She was petrified at the thought of entering the office. Well, no that was not quite accurate. It wasn't the room leaving her frozen, shivering with fear. It was who was in the room. Matron.

For all the other orphan's cruel actions, they could not match the sheer malevolence of Matron. In their case, Anne understood how hurt people hurt people. She could pity a tortured soul. But the matron? The woman was a sadist. Anne had looked up the word in the dictionary. It fit Matron almost perfectly. She never met another human being so single-mindedly focused on being as heartless as possible.

Suddenly, Anne found her eyes no longer saw the walls around her. She was reliving a memory.

She was younger. It was one of those brief times at the orphanage between her postings in other homes. One of the other children, in an effort to escape his own misery, had smacked her hard across the face. She'd been standing at the top of the stairs, not far from where she'd stood with Gilbert before. This boy had ambushed her on her way back to her bed; she'd been lost in a daydream. He was older and much larger than she was. The force of the smack throwing her off balance, Anne had fallen down the stairs. She'd landed at the bottom in a heap, her arm broken.

To this day, she can still remember the pain. It was the worst she'd ever felt in her whole life.

But it wasn't the memory of the pain that brought her back to that moment in her mind, it was the memory of Matron.

No doubt called by Anne's cries of pain, Matron had arrived quickly that night.

"Quiet! Quiet! You little wretch. I said be quiet!" The older woman bellowed, breath and girth heaving as she stomped down the stairs. "You carrot-haired little freak, I should've known it was you. Demon child! What have you done now?"

Anne remembered the rough way she was man-handled on to her feet. She remembered the piercing, white-hot agony as the jagged edges of bone ground against each other. She remembered the screaming, recognizing her own voice being responsible. But she could not be quiet. She couldn't comprehend that Matron had commanded her to be so."

And then her face, so recently abused by the odious boy, was pinched in Matron's iron grip. Her nails, meticulously kept and filed to point, dug deep into Anne's skin. Matron knelt to Anne's level, and forced her to meet the cold, dung-brown of the older woman's eyes.

"I'm telling you for the last time, you disgusting heathen. You will BE SILENT. Or I will cut out your tongue. Now, that's a fine Idea, I think. I'll enjoy being rid of your ceaseless chatter."

Her mind in turmoil, Anne forced herself to obey. The scream died on her lips, and she collapsed in a dead faint.

XXXXXXXXXXX

"Anne?" Gilbert was starting to wonder if bringing Anne back to this place was a good idea after all. He shared a look with Cole over her unresponsive head. The boy was just as uncertain as he was.

Gilbert had a slight suspicion of why Anne was so quiet beside him, though the notion surprised him and he hoped he was wrong. Soldier's fatigue affected military men, not schoolgirls. And yet, Gilbert recognized that same thousand-yard stare.

Dr. Ward was one of the proponents of the talking cure for soldier's fatigue, and regularly met with a few officers in his practice. As an apprentice, Gilbert had become familiar with their cases.

Anne was back on the battlefield, he realized. The thought sickened him. Gilbert crouched before her, bringing their eyes level.

"Anne?" He called softly, cradling her hands in both of his. Her fingers felt like ice. Gilbert knew he needed to do something to ground her, to bring her out of her head.

He reached out to cup her cheek and tilted her head up so that she faced him. She stared without seeing him, eyes glassy with unshed tears. Her lips were trembling.

"Should we smack her out of it?" Cole whispered.

"No!" Gilbert regretted the vehemence of his denial at the younger boy's flinch, but remained firmly resolved against the suggestion. Slapping Anne might bring her back to awareness, but the pain could further traumatize her. No. He would not cause her more pain. She's endured enough, he resolved. But Cole's thought, though misguided, was born from logic, not cruelty. Anne needed a shock, something to bring her back to the surface. But what could he do that wouldn't cause her more pain?

Gilbert's mind rang with the memory of a long-forgotten story he'd once been told, an answer...maybe. It was worth trying, he resolved.

Determined to help Anne ground herself in the present, Gilbert leaned up, and pressed his lips to her own.

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Anne felt herself solidify back into reality just in time to witness Gilbert lean in. She watched, stunned, as his face descended, eyes fluttering closed, lips puckering in obvious intention as he closed the distance and kissed her.

Her mind wanted to deny what was happening, but not because she was afraid. This was so very different from the only other time she'd been kissed before. That had been taken from her against her will. She realized in that moment that she wanted to be kissed by Gilbert Blythe. That's why it can't be real, she determined. She was still daydreaming, it was only no longer a nightmare.

Well...since it's only a daydream, a mischievous voice whispered from Anne's subconscious. Why not? She answered herself. Anne wrapped her arm around Gilbert's shoulders and deepened the kiss-

Only to be startled back to reality by the noise of Cole pointedly clearing his throat. But... Gilbert was still there. Not a fantasy!

Anne pulled back and met his eyes with her own. His eyes were impossibly dark, rich and brown like melted dark chocolate. Anne felt like she was on the edge of some abyss, staring into those eyes. The thought sent a thrill of anticipation through her chest. It was immediately followed by a shot of anxiety. Anne looked away, glancing around the room in an effort to ground herself, and remembered why she was here. Matron.

"Anne?" Gilbert voice was gravelly, it sent shivers of some electric emotion up Anne's spine. Her thoughts flashed with an echo of their kiss. She wanted to lean in and kiss him again.

Not now, she thought. She stood hastily, inadvertently causing Gilbert to lose his balance, falling out of his crouch to the floor below.

"Sorry," she muttered, and briskly walked across the room and through the doorway to the office.

The haggard woman hunched behind the wooden desk within was not what Anne expected. Time had not been kind to Matron. Her dark hair had paled to a brittle gray and frizzed out around her head. The flesh of her face hung in flaccid wrinkles from her skull. Her eyes, once so frightening to Anne, now simply looked empty.

"Yes? May I help you?" Her voice had not changed. It's razor sharp intonation threatened to pull Anne back into the grip of memory once more.

Matron raised an eyebrow at Anne's continued silence.

"Well?"

Cole stepped forward beside Anne and addressed Matron.

"We're looking for some information. My friend was an orphan here for a number of years. We're hoping to track down her family. Might you have some information about her? Her name is Anne Shirley, she was placed here as a baby."

"Hmph," Matron grunted. "We may have at one time but not anymore. Records were stored in the basement and the rat infestation ruined everything we had a few years back. Whatever we may have had would've been destroyed a long time ago."

No! Anne couldn't believe she'd come all this way for nothing. There had to be something, somewhere.

"There names were Walter and Bertha Shirley. They died of a fever." She exclaimed.

"Well, if that's what happened, we've got nothing that says anything about it. Like I said, everything we had was destroyed."

Anne couldn't speak again. Her heart was breaking. Cole (blessed, dear Cole!) thanked the older woman for her time and guided Anne away.

"Wait," Matron called out. She'd stood from her desk. Anne turned back and met the older woman in the middle of the room. She watched apprehensively as the matron looked her over from head to foot.

"I believe I do remember something about you. Did you used to talk a lot?"

Anne nodded and Matron leaned in as though to whisper in her ear.

"I remember now. You had the devil in you. Your parents probably dumped you here because they sensed it, if you didn't murder them with your witchcraft. But just look at you now. You may look the lady, but I know the truth. You'll never be anything but a demon child."

Anne reeled back, simultaneously stunned and yet unsurprised by the other woman's callousness. She fled out of the room, passing her companions, to make her way down the hallway and then to the stairwell.

Distantly, she heard the hurried steps of Cole and Gilbert behind her. As she descended to the floor below, Anne took a few steps forward, and then paused. The others stopped beside her.

"I have to go back!" She exclaimed, and turning back, once more ascended the staircase with renewed purpose.

Higher and higher she climbed, until she'd made her way to the attic. She crossed the room to where she'd hidden her writing so long ago. Anne crouched down as best she could and lifted away the floorboard. Her stories lay below, untouched. She reached down and picked up the sheaf of loose papers.

"This is where I can to write." She spoke aloud after noticing Cole and Gilbert watching her. "I wasn't prepared when they told me I would be going to Green Gables. It was a surprise. My stories got left behind."

Cole stepped forward and picked up the top page in her hand.

He began reading what she'd written. Anne remembered the story. It was after Mrs. Hammond had brought her back. She'd run away into the nearby woods, determined to live as a dryad. They'd brought her back, of course. So she'd stolen up to her lofty tower to daydream once more of her eventual daring rescue. It repulsed her now to remember.

"It's so stupid!" The words tore out of her with unbridled agony.

Cole watched, his heart breaking for the girl before him as she cried out her anguish. It was a sensation not unfamiliar to himself. He remembered standing on that cliff edge all to well. Anne was standing on her own cliff edge now. And like she had done for him in the not-so-distant past, he swore, he would do all in his power to keep her from hurtling herself into the abyss.

XXXXXXXXXX

What happened next was a blur to Anne. She supposed they must've descended the staircase, but she did return to awareness until they were at the door when a distantly familiar face shocked her back into the present.

"Please excuse me," she murmured. But wait!

It couldn't be...

But it was. There, crouched on the floor, scrubbing, was the bane of Anne's existence at St. Alban's.

"Is it really you?" The older girl questioned. "Well. I'd heard you got out. Must've done well for yourself. What'd you do, witch? Trap some rich bastard in your spell? Bet that's why your here, huh? Get yourself into a spot of trouble? Come to drop off some trash?"

"I beg your pardon? How dare you?!" Cole exclaimed, as Gilbert draped his arm over Anne's shoulders and pulled her away. Anne kept her eye on her tormentor, and saw that which she hadn't seen as a child. The older girl was tormented, too. Empathy flooded Anne's psyche, chasing away her fear.

"I'm sorry you're still here." She stated as Gilbert led her out the front door. She could hear the protestations behind her, but continued moving forward.

Anne wanted nothing more now than to go home.


	5. Chapter 5

Goes without saying: I don't own Anne with an E

[Author's Note: First of all, thank you again for the enthusiasm and honest criticism about this story. As a writer, I know that there is always room for improvement, and as a fan, I really want to do these characters justice. That being said, I know that these past few chapters have been very Anne and Gilbert centric, with little to no interaction from Cole. In my mind, Anne and Gilbert are in the midst of a paradigm shift, so to speak. Their perspective is being consistently drawn to the other, over and again, to the exclusion of all else. I wanted to express that not just in their inner monologues, but also in their external actions. Rest assured that it was intentional, and I have not forgotten our favorite artist. Regarding the end of the last chapter specifically, I really liked how canon did the attic scene in the orphanage. The interaction between Cole and Anne, I didn't want to change the dialogue, but I also didn't want to plagiarize. So I just briefly summarized the emotions behind it. But, I digress. I really hope you like where this is going, here's the next chapter! :) ]

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Anne slowly found herself drifting back to awareness on the ferry ride back to Prince Edward Island. The shift was subtle, her consciousness slowly floating upward through the raging current of thought. Much like the waves breaking against the boat, Anne's doubts and insecurities beat against the confines of her skull. What was real? What was love? Did it matter? Did anything matter?

Thank goodness for Cole. He hadn't left her side. Walking beside her in silence to the docks, helping her aboard the boat, even now she could distantly recollect the foreign weight across her shoulders, where his arm was draped.

As Anne finally breached the surface and solidified into the present, she felt the cold metal of the deck railing around which her fists were clenched; the icy wind whipped through her hair, threatening to pull it down.

She glanced to her right and met dark eyes with her own. Gilbert. He stared at her with such desperation, it made her feel.…well, she couldn't put a name to the feeling. But the sensation was almost something like guilt. She turned her attention back to the water below. She hadn't spoken a single word to him since she'd muttered "sorry" after the unfortunate….incident. And that's how it will remain, she declared to herself, subconsciously nodding her head in determination.

"Anne?" That was Cole. Anne turned to look up at him, humming in acknowledgement.

"You've stopped shaking."

She focused her attention once more on the passing waves and answered Cole's unspoken "are you okay?"

"I guess I just…somehow I forgot how it was there. Or I thought because I was different-that the circumstances were different-that it wouldn't be so…hard. Honestly, I really didn't think-I didn't expect….her."

"The matron? Or-"

"-The girl-from when we left. I-I KNEW her. From before, I mean. She….well, let's just say that they weren't happy memories. I'm glad, though. Confronting it head on...I'm still trying to make sense of it all, but….it's like the nightmare lost power in the daylight. In the darkness, evil seems unstoppable, but in the light of day, you realize that people are just…people. But it's more than that. I…"

Anne drifted off into silence, her jaw laboring to swallow as she battled with her grief.

"I was so sure that I would find answers," she lamented. "But I know even less now than when I started. I don't even know if my parents are really dead. And I wish what you said before was enough, I really do. But it's like there's this….emptiness inside me, and it's just growing wider by the day. I don't know what to do, Cole. I don't know how to make sense of it. I just…I have to know the truth. If my parent's really are dead, and if not, why did they leave me? Did they ever l-love me? Was any of it real?"

"Well, let's find out, shall we? I mean, churches keep records of marriages, births, deaths. You know what their names were? You were born in Nova Scotia. Do you remember what city? We could turn around when we dock and look into it?"

"I think that's a good idea-," Gilbert cut in.

"No!" Anne rebutted with force. Too much force, she scolded herself at the oldest boy's flinch. She wasn't sure how she felt about Gilbert, it was something to be analyzed another day. But she knew enough to recognize that she was not happy with him, and really didn't want to speak to him. She tried to moderate her tone, but couldn't help the cold inflection in her voice. "No. It's too late today. But we will-I will come back! I'll find out the truth about my family."

With that, Anne looked back out to watch the water, and remained silent for the rest of the journey, alone with her thoughts.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

Gilbert found himself at a loss as to how to respond to Anne's sudden cold shoulder. This whole day had been one blow after another. Each more painful than the last. And now, even though he stood beside the girl he loved, he'd never felt more distant from her. She wouldn't look at him. Wouldn't speak to or acknowledge him.

Gilbert looked over Anne's head and met Cole's eyes with his own. The younger boy was just as concerned as he was.

Gilbert knew that it had to be something to do with the kiss, but couldn't understand what. He'd just wanted to bring her out of her nightmare, ground her in the present moment with him. But then she'd pulled him closer and well...his thoughts had gotten muddled at that point. She'd pulled him in, deepened the kiss, and selfishly, he hadn't wanted it to end. But then it was over.

He wanted to ask her about it, but couldn't find the words. In any case, she'd made it pretty clear that she didn't want to speak to him and he wouldn't force her. Ruefully, Gilbert rubbed at the side of his head. He knew all too well what happened when he tried to force Anne to acknowledge him.

He'd give her time. After all, he'd be the one escorting her back to Avonlea. She couldn't ignore him forever.

She sure seemed to be trying though. After the one outburst, Anne maintained her silence. Occasionally she'd murmur to Cole, but it was always a short response, her head turned away so Gilbert couldn't hear.

It was torture. The ferry ride, the journey back to Miss Barry's. She'd been warm in her goodbyes to her friends, but maintained her stoic silence with him. Even now, as their train ambled across the countryside, Anne refused to look at him. Her gaze remained fixed out the window, her body swaying with the turbulence.

Gilbert knew he was slowly running out of time. They were nearly there. Every moment, the locomotive moved closer to Avonlea, where Gilbert and Anne would separate. Matthew was to meet her at the train station.

Knowing that he played with fire, but sure in the knowledge that he at least had to try, Gilbert leaned forward in his seat and began to speak.

"Anne, I'm sorry if kissing you made you uncomfortable. Truly. We were just so worried about you. Cole and I were calling your name and... You were so pale. I didn't know what to do."

"Do? You didn't need to do anything! I was fine Gilbert! I was just….and then you were kissing me! Now, I don't know about you, but I believe consent is rather important when it comes to that sort of thing. Why would you kiss me? And in the middle of the orphanage, too! Gilbert, why would you do that? If anyone besides Cole had seen you, my reputation could've been ruined!"

"You're right, Anne" He hadn't thought of it that way. In all honesty, he hadn't thought his actions through at all. It had been an impulse, kissing her. A split-second decision that felt right in the moment, but now he wasn't so sure. "I'm so sorry for hurting you. I don't want this to ruin our friendship. I see now that it was a mistake and I hope you can forgive me."

XXXXXXXXXXX

Anne could feel Gilbert's eyes boring into her skull from where he sat across from her. No longer wrapped in her armor of womanhood, Anne felt exposed. She knew she'd have to speak to him eventually, knew the silent treatment she was giving him was unfair. But she needed the time to think.

Today had been exhausting, in every possible way, and she hadn't made any progress on her quest. If anything, she knew less now than she had before. Her parents might not even be dead. Were their names even Walter and Bertha? Anne couldn't bear the thought of returning to Nova Scotia only to end up empty handed once more.

And then there was Gilbert. She really didn't want to think about him, wanted to forget he even existed, but knew that she could not. Their families were too close. Never seeing him again would be best, but that's wasn't possible. And this uneasy silence between them couldn't last forever. It was too noticeable. She was afraid their friends would ask questions. Anne thought about trying to explain what had happened and felt a wave of anxiety come over her. But...why?

Before she could analyze her emotions more deeply, Gilbert was addressing her. Apologizing. Anne knew that she wasn't giving him the full story, but recognizing that only made her more vociferous in her rebuke. But while she might prevaricate with him, she couldn't evade the truth in her own mind.

She'd kissed him back. He hadn't forced her. In fact, he'd really only pecked her on the lips. She had been the one to wrap him in her embrace and deepen the kiss. Coming out of her memories of that horrid place only to find him so close to her...Anne hadn't thought it was real. Believing herself to be daydreaming still, she decided to enjoy the fantasy.

She'd often thought about a handsome prince busting down the door and saving her, gifting her with True Love's Kiss before riding off into the sunset. She'd never thought about a boy she actually knew, though. And then Cole cleared his throat. The sound might as well have been cannon fire, for how violently it blasted her back to reality. She'd jumped away from Gilbert only to see Cole standing against the far wall looking at her like she was a lunatic. And maybe she was. Because it was all so, horribly, horribly real. And now...

Now Gilbert was telling her it was a mistake.

Mistake. Sorry. Friends. The words roiled around in her mind like a ship over storm-tossed waves. There was no port in sight. Anne felt adrift, lost at sea. Only now did she realize the truth.

She hadn't been angry at Gilbert, she'd been angry at herself.

She now realized she'd been projecting her emotions about her childhood bully onto him. The issues of coneent, fear for her reputation, all of it. And that wasn't fair.

But the truth was so much worse.

The truth was that Anne had suspected as soon as she realized that the kiss had really happened, that romance wasn't Gilbert's goal. Why would he choose to woo her at St. Alban's of all places? He didn't choose because he wasn't wooing her. He didn't think of her that way at all.

The thought gutted Anne. She realized now that she was losing a dream she hadn't known she'd been dreaming.

"Why did you do it?" She asked quietly, afraid to hear the answer.

"You looked so... I don't know how to describe it. Afraid…like you'd seen a ghost. You were so.…lifeless. And you wouldn't answer either one of us when we called your name! Cole suggested maybe we slap you, to bring you out of whatever thought you were trapped in, but I couldn't-I couldn't bear the thought of hurting you, so I...it was an impulse. I don't know why I did it. It was wrong to take advantage of you that way."

XXXXXXXXXXX

As the train made its final stretch of the journey to Avonlea, Anne told Gilbert what he needed to hear to repair their friendship, not giving voice to the torrent of anguish within her.

Gilbert, meanwhile, tried to convince himself that he was glad that they could mend fences, ignoring the vivid memory of eyes the color of the sky after a storm and a kiss that tasted like fresh spring rain.

They parted ways at the train station, neither satisfied with how things stood between them, but both uncertain as to how to breach the gulf.


	6. Chapter 6

As always, I don't own Anne with an E

[Hey, guys. Sorry, for the long wait on this update. Real life kinda interrupted, lol. Anyhow, I hope you enjoy! ]

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Gilbert avoided going home that night for as long as possible. Though he loved his family, he found himself reluctant at the thought of tainting their joy with his sorrow. He kept to the wooded paths, where the branches were so thick overhead as to block out the starlight. His thoughts in turmoil, Gilbert hardly noticed the darkness.

Anne had told him everything he could've hoped to hear. She understood, he was forgiven, they were friends. And yet... Her tone had been empty, missing that crystalline inflection of emotion that resonated in his mind when she spoke. Now, she spoke like the words were a hardship.

Shame dropped low in his belly with a leaden weight. Perhaps she was only telling him what he wished to hear. Bile rose to the back of his throat and Gilbert was overcome with thoughts of self-loathing. Of course, she'd tell him what he wanted to hear. She'd been traumatized. On top of all the ghosts their trip today had resurrected in Anne's psyche, he'd had to add one more.

All at once, Gilbert wished for his father. His father would know what to do. How to make amends. But his father was dead. And the woman he loved either hated him or was afraid of him.

At the sharp jolt of pain singing through his knees, Gilbert realized he must've collapsed. All at once his consciousness was lost to grief. Alone in the woods, Gilbert howled out his agony.

It was hours later when he finally came home and crawled into bed. Sleep did not come easy, though Gilbert felt exhausted to his bones. Sunlight had begun to seep through the window when he finally drifted off.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

Anne woke that Sunday morning determined to behave naturally towards Gilbert. No more coldness, they would truly be friends. She dressed early for church, and rushed through her morning chores, earning a scolding from Marilla at her absentmindedness.

They left on time, and ended up arriving early at the church, but Gilbert was nowhere to be found. In fact, no one from the Blythe-LeCroix household had made it to service that morning. The sermon began and Anne was forced to abandon her search, knowing the pastor wouldn't appreciate her wandering gaze. But while he may have the attention of her eyes, she could not quite surrender her mind. Where were they? Anne fought off visions of calamity, and forced herself to focus on the pastor's voice. It ultimately proved to be a fruitless endeavor.

After the service, Marilla demanded Anne accompany her home, so she was unable to seek Gilbert out until school the next day.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Gilbert was awoken by a soft knock on his bedroom door. He answered the knock with a soft grunt, and forced his bleary eyes open. It was Mary. She stood, pensive, in the doorway, and would not move further into the room.

Though still foggy with exhaustion (he could've only been asleep for a few hours) Gilbert could recognize that that something was wrong.

"Mary?" His voice was raspy.

"Oh, Gilbert," Mary answered, her eyes darting up, briefly, to meet his before lowering once more to the floor. "I have something to tell you, but I can't find the words."

Gilbert sat up and moved to rise from the bed. Feet meeting the hardwood beneath, he stood and walked over to where his sister-in-all-but-blood still stood, lingering not quite within the room.

"What is it, Mary?"

"M-my son-oh Gilbert, I'm sorry!- Elijah came to visit yesterday and I invited him to stay. I hadn't seen my baby boy in so long. I thought he could stay with us for a while. He met Delphine! It was hard on him, though, I think. I didn't recognize it at the time. We let him stay in your father's room. I didn't think you'd mind. I thought he might like to hold her, but Elijah-he gave the baby back to me and went into the bedroom. It was hours before I saw him again. He promised me he wasn't drinking but….he lied. He came in reeking of hooch, and we argued. It was awful, but I thought we'd resolved it. But this morning! Oh, Gilbert. How to say it?"

Mary paused, took a fortifying breath, and met Gilbert's eyes with her own.

"Elijah must've left in the night and he took-he took-" She couldn't continue.

Adrenaline coursed through his veins as Gilbert dashed out the doorway, his feet carrying him to his father's room before his conscious mind had fully processed Mary's words.

He faltered in the doorway.

Clearly, Elijah had left no stone unturned in his quest for items of value in the room. It was completely ransacked. Cautiously, as though uncertain of the ground he walked on, Gilbert entered the room in which his father died. Beneath the evidence of crime lay the remnants of a carelessness that Gilbert found repugnant. For the younger man had spilt wine on his father's books, cracked the old shaving mirror down the middle, ashed the remnants of numerous cigars on the glass of his mother's picture. It lay face up on the table beside his father's bed, where it had rested all his life It was the only image of her he'd ever known.

He picked it up in his hands, felt the weight of it, and stared unblinking at the desolation around him.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

On the walk to school Monday morning, Anne contemplated how to approach the Gilbert situation. She wanted to apologize for scolding him the other day, and felt like maybe he would understand why she'd snapped at him. Marilla had kept her at home all day Sunday, though, determined to take her measurements head to toe for a dress she was beginning to design. By the time that was finished, it was close to dinner time. Anne dreaded any awkwardness being noticed by the other youth, but she resolved to be candid with him. They were friends now. He deserved it.

Anne crossed over a field-left to lie fallow for the season-and met the road in front of the schoolhouse. She'd arrived early, hoping to catch Gilbert alone before the other students came. He typically sat on the steps out front with his book until it was time to go in. There he sat today as well, though his book lay abandoned in his lap.

"Gilbert?" Anne stood just beside him, but he appeared not to have noticed her presence. She reached out to grasp his shoulder.

At the contact, Gilbert jumped. The book slid off his lap, hitting the stone path below and falling open.

"Anne!" He cried, shocked at her proximity.

"Gilbert? Is everything alright?"

Anne's searched the older boy's eyes face for some explanation of his odd behavior. Dark circles ringed his eyes giving the rest of his face an ashy pallor. Anne wondered if he'd been sleeping poorly.

She moved beside him and lowered herself on to the steps.

"What's wrong?" She queried.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Gilbert knew endeavoring to read his book, "Essentials of Medical Chemistry, Organic and Inorganic, " a hefty tome from Dr. Ward's office, was a futile effort. The text had fascinated Gilbert the week before, when he'd borrowed it from his mentor's library, but now, the words blurred together on the page. He'd been staring off into space when suddenly, as though conjured from his mind, Anne was there standing beside him. She was so close.

He heard the thunk of the heavy book as it landed on the stone path. He'd felt it fall, but hadn't been able to stop it.

His focus on dusting off the text and placing it in his bag, Gilbert was startled anew to find Anne sitting beside him. He felt her arm graze against his own.

At her question, his gaze darted up to her face, and he was drawn into her eyes. Impossibly blue eyes. Like a clear summer sky at midday. She beseeched him with those eyes. He answered.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

"Mary's son came to visit. I guess he met Delphine, but it didn't go so well. He got to drinking and there was an argument. Mary didn't say exactly what happened, but she's got a rather nasty cut on her hand. When Bash and Mary woke up, he was gone and he'd taken everything of my father's that might catch a good price with him-including his medal. What was left was thrown around or destroyed. I'm just having difficulty wrapping my head around it. I know that they're just things, but they were HIS things. Somehow, it feels like losing him all over."

"Oh, Gilbert. That's awful," Anne responded. She felt a sob catch in her throat and swallowed it down. She'd never had anything to remember her parents by, but the thought of having something only to lose it...He must be devastated.

Anne reached her arm around Gilbert's back and rested her head on his shoulder. She knew nothing she could say would fill the loss he felt, so she remained silent.

He was the first to speak.

"Anne. About what happened Saturday-"

"Oh!" She gasped, lifting her head away to meet his eyes. "I have something I need to say about that. Gilbert, I'm sorry I was so defensive that day. It wasn't you, it was that place. But I took it out on you and that's not fair. I hope you can forgive me."

"If anyone needs forgiven, it's me, Anne. I forced you to kiss me-"

"-I kissed you back!" Anne's declaration echoed in the open air, and the silence that followed was deafening.

"W-what?"

Anne sat frozen, mortified at her own forwardness. Every instinct in her body screamed "Run!" and she obeyed, snagging her books and dashing into the schoolroom.

XXXXXXXXXXXX

Gilbert sat motionless on the stairs as Anne's parting words registered in his psyche. She'd kissed him back? But then why run away now? Despite her rather abrupt departure, Gilbert felt a new hope spring into being in his heart.

She'd kissed him back.

Okay, he could wait. He'd win her over. Resolved on his course of action, Gilbert stood up and made his own way indoors.


End file.
